the end

"APOLOGY NOT ACCEPTED, and no."

There's a flash of hurt across Noel's face. "Is there anything I can say?"

Mr. Mikhailov opens his mouth to answer, but I'm faster. "We're clearly in the middle of something," I snap. "I understand basic human decency might be below your pay grade, but if you could allow us to continue our conversation, that would be great."

I shoot him a heartless smile, taking another sip of my whiskey sour.

He stumbles, and I should feel triumphant at the lost look in his eyes, but it's empty. The reservoir of outrage I've been consistently dipping into when confronted with Noel isn't as roaring as it first came to be. The victory is short-lived, and my gaze falls to the table, unable to swallow any of the emotion that's drowning in his eyes.

"Okay," he says, but the tone is his voice betrays he's anything but. "I'm sorry, I'll leave."

Just as he's ducked his head and turned on his heel, Mr. Mikhailov's loyalty that I'd thought we'd clearly established is ruthlessly broken.

"What you mean? Come, come, sit, listen!" the old man cries out with a grin plastered across his face, arms waving Noel to the seat next to him. "More is merry!"

I knew there was a reason Russians were always the villains in movies.

There's a quick pause where Noel and I lock eyes, the entire world at a stand-still, silently asking questions I don't have the answers to. Nat's grandpa is giving a Santa-esque belly laugh, still patting the seat next to him.

I give a defeated sigh.

"Well," I say, gesturing to the seat. "Don't be rude, the man told you to sit."

The hesitance on Noel's face is almost palpable, eyes wide and dumbfounded, body half-turned and unsure. I have to give another nod towards the seat to get him to move again, and he's slow on the uptake. He watches me the entire time, as if waiting for me to chuck my drink directly at his face, but I turn back to Nat's grandpa with a deep inhale instead.

Mr. Mikhailov doesn't seem bothered at all by the uncomfortable atmosphere that's settled over the table and continues regaling his epic tale of Russian Man vs. Russian Bear with the drunk enthusiasm of multiple vodka shots. I'm keeping a steady stare, refusing to acknowledge the pair of dark eyes burning into me, mostly because I'm not sure what else to say.

Noel's confusion is directly reflected in the dangerous swirl of emotions taking a hold in my throat. The anger has faded, leaving something in its wake I can't quite make sense of. Forming coherent words to explain to Noel seems like a lost cause as I absently toy with the skewer on my plate, not even sure why I even want to in the first place.

Nat shoots me a concerned look from across the room, but I send back a comforting smile. I'm not even sure what I'm comforting about.

I'm begrudgingly impressed that Noel doesn't move for the next half hour, even entertaining Nat's grandpa with a few well-placed nods and questions. I've noted that his sister, Angelica, is entertained with Christian somewhere else in the room. Nat's looks of concern aren't going unnoticed.

Noel and I, on the other hand, have gotten into the terrible middle school habit of staring at one other, accidentally locking eyes and then quickly looking away just as quick. I'm spinning the straw of my empty whiskey sour, but I don't move to get another.

In fact, the only thing that brings pause to Mr. Mikhailov is a hand on the old man's shoulder, cutting him off mid-sentence. "What? What is it?"

Nat's dad is standing behind, familiar with his prominent, pinched nose and crows feet, a proverbial warmth in his light green eyes. "Papa, let me introduce you to someone, you can finish your story with Victoria and Noel later. Come, come."

"Ah!" I protest, hand in mid-air. "It's fine, I, uh, Nat and I discussed this. This is totally okay, don't worry." I reassure him with a small smile.

The salt and peppered man shoots me a sly look, winking. "It's okay, you kids have fun." Without another word, he's then whisking the old man away, only leaving the empty vodka glass in his wake.

I pause for a moment, drinking in the scene of Noel and I, now alone at the table. His jaw is twitching, and he's looking down, concentrated on his fingers tapping against his whiskey glass. The battle of his thoughts is betrayed by the crease of his brow, or that could be wishful thinking.

Pushing myself off the table, I sigh.

"Alright, congratulations, you've earned yourself five minutes. Let's go outside."

Noel blinks. "Are you sure? If you don't want to, I-"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't mean it, Noel," I say, swallowing down the nerves collected in my throat, and gesture for him to stand. "I know publicity isn't your thing, so let's take this outside."

His brows furrow. "I-"

"Outside," I cut him off, turning my back.

It's with quick, long strides I cross the room, and there's a building anticipation in my veins as I push open the back door. Outside is a quintessential July night, balmy and humid, a stickiness already clinging to the nape of my neck. A weak breeze toys with the edges of my peach chiffon dress. I rest my back against the brick building.

Noel is quick to follow me, and there's only a few selfish moments before he's joining me with the distant sound of crickets and rustling of leaves. When our eyes meet, he stops.

I'm so easily swallowed up by the whirlwind of his gaze, it takes a moment for me to find my footing again.

"What do you want, Noel?" I ask, and I can't temper the exhausted notes in my voice.

Tired of him or tired of pretending, that I can't decide on. The way that my pulse trips when I look him in the eyes betrays me.

"First, I wanted to apologize for showing up at your work- that was, I was being inconsiderate. I didn't think that through. I didn't know where else to go, but that wasn't right. I'm sorry." He's carding his hand through his hair, gaze flickering from me to the asphalt and back again. "I'm sorry."

I cross my arms over my chest. "Look Noel- it's fine. Don't worry about it. Let's just leave this be, okay?" I say, ignoring the bitter taste in my mouth. "We agreed on that, didn't we? That this was supposed to be over with anyway? No need to drag it out."

"Vika, I'm sorry, but I can't pretend that I want that," he says, and then pauses, swallowing. "If you don't want this- if that's what you want, I'll walk away. But you have to know that I never thought this would end tonight." He takes a step forward, eyes pursuing after mine. "I know that I did this wrong, I know I should've done this better, taken you out properly, the way you deserved."

"I don't care about that, I don't need to be taken out."

Another step closer, and my breath hitches in my throat.

"But I wanted to- want to. I want this. I want," he falters, then, "you."

The word hangs in the air for a moment, and it's aching in the way that it falls heavy on my chest, seeping through my skin, burning up.

"No," I shake my head, ignoring the heat behind my lashes. "No, Noel, you don't. You want parts of me. And I can't do that. If we're not pretending, let's not pretend like we both don't know that this is, we're not- what I want is to be treated with respect."

His mouth twitches in a frown. "I never meant to treat you without respect, Vika, I-"

"I know that I'm fucked up," I continue, ignoring him. "And I'm brash, and literally the definition of classless. I know I'm not the girl you bring home to your parents, okay? I know that, but I'm not going to let you make me feel bad about it, because I don't, Noel. And I don't want to."

My hands have tightened to fists at my side, and there's a winded quality to my breath even though I've barely moved. My tongue is finally lighter without the weight of those words hovering behind my teeth. Noel's eyes are shining under the pale moonlight, dark and searching, a frown marked on his face.

He opens his mouth for a moment, rests a hand on his forehead, and then sighs.

"I never, Vika, I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to feel that way."

"This isn't only one throwaway comment, Noel. And you know that."

"I know," he admits, voice soft, teeming with emotion I can't decipher in the night air. "Those times, Christian's birthday, all of that. It was never about you, I just want you to know that. My family's, they're... complicated."

My lips thin. "And I'm too simple to understand that?"

"No! No, that's not it." His eyes widen a fraction. "That's not it at all. I mean complicated, as in its a lot. I didn't want to bother you with it."

His Adam's apple dips dangerously in his throat, eyes falling to the ground.

I arch a brow, arms folded over my chest. "Baggage? You don't want to involve me in your baggage, that's what you're going with?"

"It's a lot to deal with. I don't expect anyone to deal with it, you especially. You shouldn't have to."

The vulnerability that's captivated his face is a swift punch in the stomach, all sorts of heart strings I never knew I had being torn apart before I can get a better grip on them. I shift in my spot to stop myself from crossing the distance between us. Every vein simultaneously ignites and collapses in my body.

"I'm the queen of baggage," I murmur.

There's another flood of quiet between us, and from the way Noel's jaw twitches, the tender sigh that falls from his lips, I can tell he's hunting for the right words. The pale light of the moon could be a lie, but it's softening all his features in a way that's exposing him more than I've ever seen, defenceless in a way I've never gotten close to.

"Did you mean it?" I finally ask, brows furrowed. "When you said that you didn't want this to end tonight?"

There's a small, sad smile on his face. "I think my biggest mistake was somehow letting you think I wanted anything else. I'm not even sure how you don't know that I think you're amazing."

"Amazing?" I echo.

He takes another step forward, and now we're close, in a way that earlier today we'd barely brushed the surface of. He reaches out a hand, breaths away from my cupping my cheek, and I freeze, but he drops it before impact.

"I've never met anyone who has managed to drag me so far out of my comfort zone, while also making me feel so... right, at the same time. It shouldn't make sense, you don't make sense, but I'd do anything to feel that way again."

A shiver trickles down my spine. "I mean, I just made you try Chinese food."

"There's nothing more I want to do than eat your garbage food and watch your garbage TV with you."

I can't help the small laugh that escapes me. His eyes light up in a way I haven't seen all night. It threatens to swipe the solid ground right from underneath me, but there's still something inside of me that's holding on tightly to the edge of the cliff, digging my fingers into the dirt, refusing to let go just yet.

"I won't be some dirty little secret, Noel. I want more than that, and I deserve better than that," I say, a quiet gravity in my voice.

"You do, and more than anything, I want to give that to you."

We lock eyes again, and my palms are going sweaty. The tight hold is beginning to slip through my fingers.

"I don't love you, Vika."

I snort. "Please, don't overwhelm me all at once."

He smiles, small, scratching at the back of his neck. "I'm not going to say I do yet, it's not easy for me with that kind of thing. And I'm warning you, before we get any farther with this, but I can honestly say that I could. I really could. And that terrifies me, but I want to follow that through more than anything."

There's an inexplicable warmth in my chest, slowly melting away all the weight that's set a semi-permanent residence over the course of the last few weeks. His words are like velvet against my bare shoulders in the night air.

"And Cleopatra?" I ask, brows raised.

He knits his brows. "What about her?"

"What if we don't get her blessing?" I take a step closer, so now we're toe-to-toe, and I can help the grin curving on my face.

He looks genuinely conflicted for a moment, mouth dipping into a frown, a crease on his forehead, the hesitance written all over his face. "Well, you haven't learned how to brush her correctly. If I just showed you, I know she'd-"

And then I let go.

It's with one swift movement, I'm reaching up and smothering the rest of his thought with my lips, pressing them against his with a quick, chaste kiss. He blinks in confusion for a moment, as if it still hasn't all set in yet, and then he's chasing my mouth with his. I'm smiling into the kiss as I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer, the warmth of his body no contest to the heat that's unfurling inside of me, a consequence of the friction of his words all collecting together and igniting in an inextinguishable fire.

He pulls away first, breath coming in soft pants, forehead pressing against mine. "I promise I'm going to make it up to you."

I grin. "I promise that I'll let you."

And then I'm cupping the back of his head and capturing his lips with mine once more, intoxicated more with his taste than any champagne I've drunk all night. Even though they're only words, I want to believe him more than anything, believe in the genuine notes I hope are reflected in those coffee dark eyes of his, in the slight stumble of his words and the red dusting of his cheeks. The man I'd uncovered in Mark's apartment is underneath the black tie and thick frames, kissing me back under the night sky, just as dizzy as I am.

As I'm running my hands down his torso, all achingly familiar in a way I'd never thought I'd touch again, he's pressing a quick kiss on my forehead.

"We should go back inside, while I'd love to stay out here and kiss you all night, I think you've missed enough of Nat's wedding," he says, voice barely breaking above a whisper and rough in a way that resonates all the way into my bones.

I sigh, but for the first time, my shoulders aren't heavy. "I guess you're right, this one time. Let's go."

When I pull away from his embrace, pushing off from his chest, it's cold in ways that's aren't right. The door to the hall is a few feet away, but someone it feels as if it exists in an entirely different reality than the one we're steeped in, filled with an entire world of consequences that can't touch us out here.

"Wait," he says, and my pulse trips. "One second."

I turn slowly, my entire heart hanging in the balance. "What?"

"Is there anything else I can do to begin making this up to you?"

The relief crashes down onto me in an overwhelmingly comforting wave, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. It takes everything inside of me not to press him against the brick wall and rain kisses all over his face, and instead I grin at him. "Ten thousand dollars?"

His eyes widen. "What?"

It's only for a moment, and then I'm completely betraying any straight face, erupting into laughter. Noel visibly relaxes, a small, knowing smile curving on his lips.

"A dance would be nice," I admit, honestly, and hold out my hand in a way that's devastatingly vulnerable.

His hand slips into mine naturally, beaming, and then presses a small kiss against my temple. "Christ, I have no idea when I became so smitten with you."

I snort, squeezing his hand. "Smitten? You're such a fucking dork."

There's a beat of quiet, and Noel doesn't say anything, only looks away. I feel that last heartstring in my very depths tugged down to my very core.

"And I'm pretty smitten with you too," I follow up, leaning up on my tiptoes for another kiss.

When I pull away, Noel's smile is so genuine, it winds me on an entirely new level.

As we step in sync towards the door, I know we're only breaths from breaking the spell of moonlight and cricket symphony. On the other side is the reality of our jobs, of our families and our friends, the weight of the world ready to drop on our shoulders the moment we step through the threshold.

But for some reason, with the warmth of his palm in my own, it doesn't feel that scary.

***

WE'RE HERE. WE DID IT. WE'VE MADE IT. THE END HAS COME. WOW.

I just want to say, thank you guys so much for reading Vika and Noel's story to the end. It honestly means so much to me that you guys actually take the time to read it until the end!

I think that's all for now, so this will be the last trash goblin out. THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH AGAIN! LOVE YOU GUYS!